A/N: And here I come with a new chapter five or so months after my last one. More pirates becuase pirates are fun and do vicious piratical things. Review responses:

PuddlegumThe1st: Glad you think I captured the setting well.

Alex: Favourite character? Hmmm, Bork is the easiest to write but I think that's mostly because there really isn't all that much to him. Klis is in a similar boat but not quite as easy. Concept wise my favourite pirate is Toothclaw. Wears shark-teeth and dresses in fish scales and hunts big sea critters (thus-completing my Holy Trinity of Hunters). One-Eye is the most fun to make suffer and the Manywhispers is reeeeeeeeally fun to write. But my favourite is probably Browneye at this point. Dumb, revenge-driven slavemaster out of his depth. Walking the plank is a thing yes and it might happen at some point in the future.

Pyrah: I can't reeeeeeeeally use 2020 as an excuse anymore, four months into 2021... :P

Casterway: Do you *still* remember who is who several months later? Honestly dear readers I am sorry to have to do this to you but you miiiiiiiight want to read back a bit. Goodness knows I have. I cannot promise consistent updates for BaW but I do have some other half-baked things I can and will throw at you people in between my increasingly sporadic updates.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk, enjoy the chapter.

Thrak could not help applauding his own intelligence. There was no better diversion, no greater distraction than a dozen beasts violently swinging at each other. The tall rat slipped under a pair of locked swords, whistling idly to himself. "Should have started with this," he muttered, his eyes darting about to make sure he was no longer being pursued. He still had the pilfered parchment on him, having tossed the food list into the air. Whoever got their paws on it in the end would be sorely disappointed.

Not like that was any concern of his. All Thrak had to do now was get off the Dark Plague and back on his own ship and it was smooth sailing. His mistress would be pleased, she would have the map, and the Manywhisker's treasure would be theirs.

Stepping over a pair of groaning stoats, the rat made his way to the plank attaching Clogg's ship to the rest of the fleet- the easiest way on and off the vessel. His lips curled into a frown as he found his path blocked.

"Yew really didn't think ye'd get away so easily, didjew?" Scringewhiskers sneered. He was now sporting a black eye and had patches of missing fur all over. Evidently he hadn't escaped the brawl unscathed. "Well, it ain't over 'till I say so!" the ferret brandished his cutlass.

Thrak raised his arms to show that he was unarmed, and smiled. "Whenever you're ready, mate."

Snarling, the ferret lunged, infuriated by the mock innocence. The tall rat stepped to the side, his tail wrapping around the ferret's outstretched paw and bringing it and the blade down while swinging hard at the ferret's unprotected face. Scringewhiskers saw stars and swung wildly, only to be struck again. This time he lost his balance, the grip on his cutlass loosened and Thrak's tail wasted no time in stripping it from his paws. A third punch floored the ferret, who spat out a bloody tooth.

"Now it's over." It was Thrak's turn to snarl as he brought the cutlass down to deliver the final blow.

"AYE! IT'S OVER!" Fleaback roared, emerging from the brawl like a beast out of hellgates, cudgel raised high.

It was the fighter instinct inside Thrak that saved him as he twisted to face the wider rat, twisting his strike about with a wild flourish to intercept Fleaback's blow before it caved in his skull.

The two rats glared each other down, before throwing themselves at one another. Sparks flew as the salt-hardened iron clashed and clanged against each other. Neither spared the other an inch, each a whirlwind of deadly motion, a hurricane of steel.

Then Thrak slammed a footpaw between the wider rat's legs and just like that, the whirlwind was over. "Like I said," he smirked, as Fleaback fell to his knees, his eyes bulging in pain. "It's over." Without another word the tall rat scurried onto the plank and off of the Dark Plague.

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There were, perhaps, three things as chaotic as a good old-fashioned pirate brawl. Of those, two also involved pirates, and the third was a freak earthquake. Pirate birthday parties were a close fourth, and hurricanes could sometimes contend with fisticuffs at sea. In short the current ruckus was not something Clogg could afford to take lightly. Many a corsair had found their ambitions abruptly terminated after a brief scuffle rapidly deteriorated into bloodied blades and lives cut short.

"OI!"

Clogg, seasoned sea-rat and professional bellower though he was, could barely be heard over the tumult of battle. Brawls were noisy affairs, after all. Curses flew through the air like a neverending rain of flaming arrows. The colourful language alone was enough to put down gentler and kinder beasts on the off-chance that any of them found themselves in such unfortunate circumstances.

Cutlasses, knives, fists, and in the case of a particularly inebriated Ripple Sharkbreath, the lid of a grog barrel, were swung with extreme prejudice, as if the fate of the world hung in the balance.

By now Clogg doubted anybeast even knew why they were fighting. Somebeast had tried to hit somebeast else, and a third had been hit and taken offense. Such was always the way with these things. Perhaps that was why they always seemed to spiral out of control…

"BORK! Put that stoat down! No! Gently, oh Hellgates," Clogg dragged a paw across his face, watching as the unfortunate vermin sailed through the air until they ran aground against the mast.

"So help me Vulpuz," Clogg spat to the side, tightened his belt, and cracked his knuckles. The only way to end a brawl, it seemed, was the old-fashioned way. "I'll show 'em why I'm Captain." With no further fanfare, the rat leapt headfirst into the fray and sought bloody vengeance against this display of insubordination.

He ducked under a particularly violent swing and responded with one of his own. Clogg followed up by grabbing his dazed opponent by the ears and lowering their muzzle into his oncoming knee. Then grabbing the downed beast by the tail, he swung them into three others. Clogg went on, slamming his tail into the back of several legs, felling the pirates they belonged to and subsequently stomping the air out of their lungs.

"I expect better from yew!" the Pirate Captain growled, lifting a weasel clear off the ground and tossing him into a rat and a stoat. All three tumbled to the ground like skittles.

Just when he was beginning to think that he was making progress and that maybe he would have the situation back in control before dinnertime, a large paw closed over him, pinning his arms to the side and lifting him clear off the ground.

The one-eyed rat's eye bulged, as a terrible sinking feeling closed over him. He knew what came next, yet still tried to prevent it. "No! BORK! PUT ME DOWN!"

But the wolverine prince was too excited by all the action to realise who he was holding. Being at sea had consisted of little more than being seasick and going hungry. Now that he could throw his considerable weight around, he felt alive again.

To Clogg's dismay.

"BOOOOOOOOOORK!" the searat screamed, flying through the air until he hit the mast with a CRUNK! Groaning, the rat slid down towards the deck, treasure maps and krakens chasing each other round his head. Clogg shook his head. Now was no time to be laying idle (even if his head did hurt a lot). Blurred though his vision was, he could see that the brawl was getting bigger. More beasts were joining in. It was only a matter of time before it spun completely out of control. A creature came rushing towards him, a blade glinting in their paw. Clogg waited for the last moment before sweeping their legs out from under them with a sweep of his tail.

"Darkhide!" he shouted in surprise, standing up and glaring down at his would-be-attacker. "What's gotten inter ye?"

"Sorry Captain," the she-rat muttered, rubbing the back of her head. "Got carried away."

"Humph, ye can say that again," disgruntled though he was, Clogg still offered her a paw up. "Any idea who's responsible for this?"

But Darkhide wasn't listening. Her mind raced towards the knives still on her belt, the larger rat's exposed chest, the chaos all around them. Clogg was distracted, and amidst all the havoc would anybeast even see her kill him? No, not likely… and if Clogg was dead… The Dark Plague would be hers!

"DIE FLEAS!" Sharkbreath shouted, appearing out of nowhere and swinging his barrel-lid at the non-existent insects. Clogg stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding the blow. Darkhide had no such luck and with a resounding crunch her snout met the hard wood.

"Hell's teeth," Clogg swore, turning away from the scene as Darkhide pounced upon the ferret and the two went tumbling across the deck. "I have te do everythin' myself!"

It was as he bashed the heads of two unfortunate stoats into each other, that Clogg had an epiphany. He was not just Captain of the beasts fighting, but also Captain of the ship. And even if his subordinates refused to listen, his trusty vessel had yet to fail him.

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Fighting his way to the helm was not easy, but Clogg had managed. He was sporting a few fresh cuts and bruises but nothing serious. He had suffered worse and lived.

"Still, should have thought of this before," the rat growled, violently twisting the helm into motion. "Port!" he yelled. The first turn threw the brawlers off balance. "Starboard!" A second, equally violent one, floored them.

"We're under attack!" One-Eye bellowed, trying and failing to find his feetpaws amidst the sea of sliding bodies. Claws outstretched, he managed to steady himself against the mast. "Oi! Quit lyin' about! Somebeast's ramming inter us!"

"Port!" Clogg grinned, watching with unashamed glee as Fleaback slid into the wildcat's shaking legs, knocking him over and dragging him down the stairs and into the ship's hold.

"Whassa matter with yew!?" the wildcat could be heard screeching, his limbs flailing about in search of his scimitar. Before he could get his bearings, however, Clogg shouted starboard.

The remaining half a dozen sharp turns were hardly necessary, but Clogg took them all the same, sending the hapless corsairs sliding port and starboard to his heart's content.

"Now that I have yer attention," Clogg growled, at last steadying the ship. "Who wants te tell me what this was all about?"

All that answered him were the groans of the downed.

"I-I tried t'stop it Captain!" Browneye exclaimed, throwing his paws together and rising to his knees in a dramatic show of honesty.

Clogg shook his head in disbelief, mentally tuning out the groveller.

"T-tried te end it early! But nobeast was listenin'! An' then that damned rat- but it's alright Captain. I'll handle the rat. A-an' I won't fail ye next time! I'll give 'em Hellga-"

Another slight turn of the helm sent an unsteady Bork sliding into the stoat. Crushed between the railings and the wolverine, Browneye was silenced.

"Anybeast else?" the one-eyed rat demanded, icily.

"It was that damned scrap of paper!" a bloody-nosed Bloodface exclaimed, in a nasal voice. "Somebeast said it was a treasure map!"

"Aye!"

"Oh that's right, the map!"

"Who had the map?"

"What map?" demanded Clogg, his eye narrowing.

There was a bit of a hubbub as the bruised and bloodied corsairs scanned the deck in search of the map that had started it all. Many turned on the spot, looked left and right, some searched the waves, worried it had fallen overboard.

"There!" Mudfoot cried, and he made to limp over to the scrap of paper sticking out between a pair of planks, only to be shoved aside as the more able members of the crew pushed and shoved to try and earn back some of their Captain's favour. As if being the one to present him with the map would earn them a reprieve.

The scrap of paper had not made it out of the scuffle unscathed. A large chunk was missing from one corner, there were claw marks in another and the already yellowed paper was dotted with freshly dried blood. Nevertheless, the words were easily discernible.

'Klis, I snuck a few jars of herring into the Dreaded's crow's nest. There's a small sack of custard creams under Ripple Sharkbreath's squeaky floorboard (he doesn't even know it's there!) and a pair of mouldy loaves waiting for you in Toothclaw's display. I will send more food when I can.'

Clogg ground his teeth, remembering Klis's frantic proclamation.

"Well ye see, I-I didn't write that. B-Bork did!"

It did not take much brains to put two and two together. Scrunching up the scrap paper, Clogg tossed it aside and marched over to the wolverine. "Bork! In my cabin now! The rest of yew, clean this place up. I don't want a single stray tooth left behind, ye hear me?"

"Not a treasure map after all," One-Eye picked up the detestable parchment, and without a second thought tossed it overboard.

As he dragged the dazed Bork by the ear, Clogg fixed the corsairs with a final glare. "An' for the record gentlebeasts, ye were fightin' over a riddle!"

"Especially since the map is hidden in a riddle."

Recalling the words of the Manywhispers, One-Eye's one eye bulged and the wildcat threw himself over the railings and into the icy seas below.

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Clogg waited for Bork to shake the dizziness off, before clapping his paws. Klis and the wolverine swallowed audibly and shared a look of apprehension.

"Are the two of yew aware of how close that little message of yers came to destroying months of hard work?" the searat demanded, still applauding them. "Because that fight wouldn't have stopped! It would have gone on an' on an' on until all the other captains joined in with their crews. Anybeast that wanted te mutiny, would have mutinied."

Klis made to protest- surely the brawl outside could not have been caused by a mere love letter? U-unless everybeast was in love with Swallowtail!? The burly ferret opened his mouth, not entirely sure what he was even going to say- and found it clamped shut by Clogg's no-longer clapping paw.

"No! Whimper! Yew keep yer mouth shut an' listen! We're sittin' on a tinderbox as-is. No sign of land, dwindling supplies an' most of us hate each other already. Even the slightest nudge in any direction could lead to total catastrophe. As it almost did!"

Klis swallowed. Clogg let go of the ferret's muzzle and pointed a claw up at the wolverine. "Bork, yer not gonna write another damn thing for the rest of this journey. Do I make meself clear?"

The wolverine prince beamed. "R-really? I don't have te write anything?"

"A-aye, absolutely nothing…" Clogg replied, taken by surprise- it had not been the response he'd been expecting.

"Thanks Clogg!"

"Yer welcome Bork," the rat smiled. "Why don't ye go outside an' make sure the riff-raff outside keep doin' what they're supposed te?"

Puffing out his chest so that it was almost as round as his belly, Bork made his way outside to mock the lowly corsairs and make their jobs even more difficult.

Klis shivered in place, certain that Clogg would not go so easy on him. To his surprise the rat merely sat down besides him.

"The last Whimper was far more obedient and far less interested in my job. He left… rather suddenly, an' te be entirely honest I'm still not over it. It should've been him here an' not yew…" Clogg sighed. "But we are where we are, an' all I've got now is yew. I should've known that, as an older beast, ye'd want te be more involved. Keepin' yew out of the loop was my mistake. But, luckily, it's not too late to rectify."

The burly ferret blinked."So I'm not in trouble?"

"Ye ain't a whelp," Clogg growled, shaking his head and poking the ferret's chest. "Stop acting like one. Trouble for what? Causing the brawl? No, yer not. But I will be keepin' a closer eye on yew. Make sure yew don't do anythin' else stupid. I'm gonna start treatin' yew like what yer pretendin' te be. A son of Marrick. So I expect yew te start actin' like one."

Klis felt his chest inflating with pride. Finally some recognition! And he'd gotten away with sending Swallowtail a love letter! "Y-yew kin count on me!"

"Good," Clogg stood up and moved over to his bookshelf. "An' remember, if yer ever hungry," the rat pulled a heavy tome aside, to reveal a miniature assortment of palatable foodstuffs. "Ye come te me."

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Having escaped both his three-way duel and the pitched battle he had started none the worse for wear, Thrak was in very high spirits. The praise of his Mistress helped.

"You have outdone yourself Thrak! All the other Captains were so busy snarling at each other over dead crewbeasts they don't really care about to notice the treasure map you whisked out from right under their whiskers. Very well done!"

Thrak bowed his head, his tail producing the map from under his vest and pressing it into her eager paws.

Poisonblade grinned wide and unfurled the parchment. She frowned at the large letters, the untidy scrawl and the mess of smudged ink, yet felt her heart flutter at the familiar prose.

When I first laid eyes on you, I was a little bit scared. I had a bit of a reputation, I suppose, but most of it I made up. I'm just an ordinary hob really, even if I'm a warlord's heir. An' then you came along with that- that swagger only yew possess! The way you swashed your hips and swayed yer tail I just… And your eyes. You've got the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. But I don't like you just coz you're pretty- I bet everybeast says that about yew. I just want to thank you again for helping me. I don't like it much at sea, what with all the rationing, and the salt and the water but… you've made my time aboard this vessel easier. I hate sailing but I would sail all over the world with you.

"Th-that dirty rat!" Poisonblade snapped, slamming a blade straight through the unfortunate parchment and the majority of her desk. Thrak watched with growing apprehension, as his Captain drew another knife and plunged it into the desk. "Who does he think he is!? A-after all this time t-t-t'write somethin' like this?" Poisonblade stood up, gently caressing the loving words. "He still wrote it… The spineless fool."

"Um?" Thrak murmured, not sure if asking for her attention was a good idea. "Captain?"

"Do not interrupt me Thrak!" She stabbed the letter again. "Oh that love-sick maniac! I knew he'd come through! And the Manywhispers! Of course, this is the treasure map!" She chuckled to herself. "He knew Clogg would never have the guts t'deliver this himself, so he arranged for it to fall into my paws anyways. The sly devil! Thrak!" she turned to the taller, confused-looking rat. "Fetch me some parchment and a quill. I have a reply to write!"

"...At once Captain." He bowed low, his tail flourishing in front of him, and scurried out of her cabin as she brought yet another blade into her desk. He dared not voice the question that burned at the front of his mind. What kind of treasure map needs a reply?

Footnote: And there we go! Was the brawl worth the wait? Is there treasure at the end of the maps? Will Klis Get His Kiss?

Find out next time on the Soap Opera At Sea.